


Lick it. Slam it. Suck it.

by echoes_of_another_life



Category: CW Network RPF, Smallville RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 07:38:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoes_of_another_life/pseuds/echoes_of_another_life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To quote Mike Rosenbaum. “Tequila isn’t a beverage. You’re not supposed to sip it.” Tequila is meant to be shot. Gulped, slammed, pounded, sucked from a bottle… or if you’re really lucky, “From between full, moist lips.”</p><p>Apparently, Jared agrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lick it. Slam it. Suck it.

Lick it. Slam it. Suck it.

Jared watched Tom take a sip of his drink as Mike slammed yet another empty glass down on the tabletop, swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and deliberately elbowed Tom in the process.

“Pussy,” Mike teased as both Jared and Jensen banged their glasses, hard against wood in unison. Jared waited for Tom to do the same. 

Tom took another sip, grimaced as Mike refilled all three empty glasses. Mike turned to face Tom, bottle held in mid air, waiting…

“Tequila isn’t a beverage,” Mike grumbled. “You’re not supposed to sip it. Fuck those people who serve it in fancy glasses and claim it’s a complex liquor.”

Jared laughed as Jensen leaned across the table, raised two fingers beneath Tom’s glass and tilted it. He grinned at Jared as Tom almost choked, alcohol spilling from his lips to trace a path down his chin.

“Tequila is meant to be shot,” Jensen announced. 

“Gulped, slammed, pounded, sucked from a bottle…” Mike began as he shifted against the intimate-booth-seating. Edged closer to Tom; voice hushed and pitched low while he mouthed his way along Tom’s jaw. Licked a path up his chin to taste the spilled liquor, caught Tom’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucked it into the warmth of his mouth.

“Or if you’re really lucky, from between full, moist lips,” he whispered. “Isn’t that right Jared?”

Jared shifted in his seat, unsure and a little on edge. He was only just beginning to get the hang of this, the intimacy with which both of Jensen’s friends seemed to act around one another. How Jensen acted around Mike and Tom _and_ Tequila. 

Not that Jared was afraid to touch. Most people shook hands, slapped each other on the back, minimal contact, brief, hesitant and easily forgotten. Not Jared. Jared rarely shook hands. 

Instead, Jared reached out, traced his fingertips over ridges and grooves, learned length and shape, warmth and texture. Heated caress, palm to palm. Stroked the pad of his thumb over hard knuckle to interlock with matching thumb, wrapped his fingers around the other’s hand and held tight.

But Jared was a little out of his depth, unsure. Jensen had worked with both Tom and Mike for over a year before returning to Vancouver to shoot his own show. He’d gotten to know them, hung out with them, partied with them, and maybe--judging by the ease of intimacy, possibly more. Jensen knew where the lines where drawn, knew when to push and how far. 

Jared was still learning the ropes of how that worked, how they worked. All Jared knew was Chad, and honestly, with Chad there were no lines. With Chad it was _anything goes_ , something that Jared had a feeling Mike could appreciate. 

But not Jensen. 

During the short time it took to film a new Pilot together, before hearing the news that they’d been picked up and they returned to Vancouver, Jared had learned that Jensen had barriers. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise Jared if Jensen carried around his own personal measuring device to ensure people stood a regulation three feet away from him at all times. 

It had come as a surprise to Jared to learn that both Mike and Tom managed to ignore Jensen’s need for space; both invaded it at every given opportunity. Something Jensen didn’t seem to mind. The jostling, arms around the shoulder, waist, the nudges, intimate slaps on the thigh, fingers that lingered a little longer than necessary. 

The touching…

Not that Jared minded any of that; he’d been invited into Jensen’s circle of friends, his personal space. Seated right alongside Jensen, one arm stretched out along the back of the sofa-like bench, hand rested heavy and possessive against Jensen’s shoulder. Thigh pressed up against thigh, so close denim chafed against denim every time one of them so much as breathed out. Jared’s cock, already half-hard twitched against the zipper of his jeans, while Jensen leaned over to help Tom with his drink. Jensen’s jeans pulled tight to the curve of his ass, shirt riding up to expose the barest hint of tanned skin before Jensen sat back down. Closer to Jared than before and he slid his hand against the inseam of Jared’s jeans. Scrape of nail against denim, a fleeting touch, brief but enough to leave an ache that lingered. 

Close enough that Jared could smell the faint trace of sweat hidden beneath fresh, lightly applied cologne. Heated skin, the slight sheen of moisture that caused Jensen’s shirt to cling to his upper back, pulled tight across shoulders and neckline. Short spikes of hair, damp at the nape of Jensen’s neck as the bar filled with more and more people, as bodies moved closer together. As Jensen shifted closer…

Jared tried to distract himself by glaring at Tom. He arched an eyebrow, ignored the temptation to drag Jensen closer, cover his mouth with his own and just taste… ease the ache which had been building in his balls since Jensen had slammed him to the floor, straddled Jared’s hips and breathed,

_Easy Tiger…_

The feel of strong thighs on his, the weight of Jensen above him, looming over him…

The teasing grin as Jensen eased just a little bit closer, took away the last inch of space. Shifted what had been a rehearsed scene into unexpected intimacy. The pressure and the heat from Jensen’s fingers as they circled Jared’s throat, Jensen’s other hand held tight to Jared’s wrist, easing it lower over ridged buttons and skin-warm denim. Short bursts of shared breath, spent energy, which quickly became arousal…

“What’s up Jay?”

Jared glanced sideways at Jensen and fought the urge to tug his shirt down over his crotch; smiled instead. He shifted his gaze to look at Tom as Tom shrugged his shoulders, masked his guilt by downing a whole shot in one swallow. 

He should have known Tom would tell Mike, which explained the reason Mike looked happier than a pig in shit. 

“So how does it go again Tom?” Mike asked. 

Jared glared at Tom. It was stupid to feel betrayed; it wasn’t as if they’d gotten naked together or anything. It was just a dumb game born of boredom to pass the time filming a stupid movie where most of their co-stars where tucked in bed by eight or catching up with homework between scenes. 

“How does what go?” Jensen asked. 

“You mean Jared’s never told you how lick, sip and not to mention suck friendly he and Tom are?”

“Shut up, Mike. It was just a game, a stupid game,” Tom hissed. 

“More like an excuse to suck face. Not that I blame the guy, I mean who wouldn’t want suck on a face as pretty as yours?” Mike grinned. 

“You kissed Tom?”

Jared’s shoulder brushed against Jensen’s as he turned to face him. So close he could smell the alcohol on Jensen’s breath, see the faint line of salt that lingered on his upper lip. The accusation that looked almost like hurt in his gaze…

“What? No--Jen it wasn’t--I didn’t…”

“So Tom’s never parted those pretty lips of his for that tongue of yours, is that what you’re saying?” Mike interrupted.

“Mike shut up!” Tom warned. 

“It was game Jen, just a game…” 

“Yeah, all boys together, not like he belongs to anyone, right Jensen?” Mike grinned. 

“Mike I swear if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Tom almost shouted.

“I’ll shut up on the condition that you tell us just how to play this game of yours,” Mike challenged. 

Jared frowned, confused as to why it was such a big deal. It wasn’t as if Mike seemed all that concerned where Jared’s tongue had been, so why the need to stir things up? Unless Mike was the kind of person who got off on seeing the new guy embarrassed in front of his co-star and friend. 

And Jensen was his friend, had been since the instant they’d been introduced and Jared had noticed the way Jensen eyed his tall frame and had taken an instant step back. Jared was used to it, the way people reacted to his height, the fact that he tended to bound up to a person instead of walk, reach for them instead of waiting for an introduction and an impersonal handshake. He was also used to asshole actors who thought the ratings shone out of their ass. Who only had to smile at a camera to win an audience over. 

And maybe for a split second he’d pegged Jensen for that type until he’d noticed the way Jensen had rubbed his open palm against his jeans before putting out his hand. How he’d sucked in his bottom lip, just far enough to worry it with his teeth before he glanced away, gaze focused anywhere but toward Jared. 

The hitch in Jensen’s breath that betrayed the slight Texan twang as Jensen introduced himself. Followed by the look of relief which Jensen was too slow to mask when Jared had let slip his own brand of Texas, accompanied by a huge smile. That was all it took for Jared to side step whatever issues Jensen was hiding, to drop his shoulders, widen his stance until he was almost eye level with Jensen. Jared took a deliberate step back as he held out his hand and watched Jensen lean in, bridge the barrier and reach out. Jensen’s fingers making first contact, acknowledging trust. 

They’d been doing this ever since, this dance around the attraction. Jared retreating whenever Jensen looked uncomfortable. Taking another step back but always in the right direction as Jared allowed Jensen to set the pace. 

Jared’s arm draped casually across the back of Jensen’s seat, fingers close enough to touch but not quite. It was a subtle invitation for Jensen to shift closer, lean in to the heat. Jared’s legs spread wide across worn leather seating. A shared look of understanding, the hint of a smile as distance gave way to warmth and contact. Jensen took the final inch of space and pushed his thigh against Jared’s. 

Always Jared pressing forward, casual, slow. Every move an invitation, never a demand and then a step away, breath held as he waited to see if Jensen would follow.

The only problem Jared had with playing a game of follow-my-lead was that he was taking so many steps back; he was beginning to wonder if Jensen would ever catch up. 

Jared had seen Jensen’s barriers come down during the Pilot. Felt how hard Jensen was as Sam pushed against Dean, rolled them over, and reversed their positions to come down on top of Dean. He’d seen the flare of want in Jensen’s eyes as Jensen had pushed up, hot and heavy against Jared’s thigh. Jensen’s actions denying Dean’s words as Dean had breathed. 

_Get off me._

Jared glanced at Jensen and frowned. He watched the way Jensen raised an eyebrow and laughed at Mike’s teasing, his features betraying nothing but humour. He listened to the way Jensen kept his voice neutral, a complete contradiction to the way his fingers wrapped around Jared’s wrist beneath the table. Jensen’s thumb tracing a circular pattern into Jared’s palm, gentle, a wordless apology for the almost bruising way he tightened his hold.

Jared shifted, tugged his hand free of Jensen’s grip, put his fingers around Jensen’s briefly and squeezed a brief reassurance. He caught Tom’s look of confusion, Mike’s grin as realization dawned. Leaving Jared to wonder just how long he’d been the one playing catch up. 

“So…” Mike asked as he slid a full glass of Tequila across the table toward Jared. “Are you gonna tell us how this game of yours works or not?”

“How about I show you?” Jared stood, handed Mike the glass of Jose Cuervo, placed the empty glasses on the seat next to Tom, and laughed as he pulled the table several feet away from where they sat. Winked at Mike, took back the glass of Tequila and snagged the last piece of lemon from the plate with his free hand as he turned and grinned at Jensen. 

“Ready Jen?” 

Jared straddled Jensen’s thighs. He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he curled his tongue around his index finger and sucked into the warmth of his mouth. 

“So, this is how it works,” Jared said. He dipped his wet finger into the nearby bowl, then traced a line of salt across Jensen’s upper lip. Stroked along Jensen’s jaw with his thumb, tilted his chin up as Jared shifted closer, and hunched down, his knees pressed into the warm leather behind Jensen. 

“First rule, no kissing allowed.” Jared squeezed the wedge of lemon between thumb and forefinger, smeared the juice along Jensen’s bottom lip and grinned at Jensen’s sharp intake of breath. 

“You just gotta taste,” Jared whispered. He reached behind him; movement tilted his hips forward to brush against Jensen’s cock. Both already hard. Jared swallowed past the groan as Jensen lifted into him, as Jensen’s fingers sought and found his ass. 

“Second, no hands,” Jared hissed. Locked his fingers with Jensen’s to pull his arms away. He forced them down by Jensen’s sides, leaned forward and licked across Jensen’s upper lip. He followed the faint line of salt to the corner of Jensen’s mouth, lingered, and tasted the groan that escaped Jensen’s parted lips. Jensen’s breath hot against Jared’s cheek as he shifted beneath Jared, bucked upward, moved his hips to grind his cock under Jared’s thigh.

“No hands, Jay,” Jensen groaned as Jared eased back. Jared bit down on his own lip, tasted salt, curled his tongue around the remaining grains and knocked back the shot glass of Tequila in one mouthful. Jared felt Jensen take a breath, hold it as he swallowed, the salt helping to lessen the burn and Jared leaned in. Fingers found purchase in Jensen’s hair, Jensen’s mouth inches from his own. Eyes closed, dark lashes fanned out against the masculine curve of his cheeks. Jensen’s bottom lip was still wet, coated with citrus. 

“Fuck Jensen, open your eyes,” Jared hissed. Their mouths a breath apart as Jensen opened his eyes, heat, want, desperation, all the things he couldn’t say, all there as he held Jared’s gaze. 

“I’ll make it good Jensen,” Jared promised.

“New rules Jay,” Jensen warned. Seconds before he brought his hands up, tangled his fingers in Jared’s hair to pull him down. “New rules are there are no rules.”

The sharp taste of lemon burst across Jared’s taste buds as Jensen licked into Jared’s mouth and for once, there was no step back. 

Jared pushed forward, forced Jensen flat against leather, and ate up the remaining space between them. Jensen’s cock hard under Jared’s thigh, the palm of his hand heavy against the small of Jared’s back as he pulled down, forced Jared closer. Jared’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked hard on Jensen’s tongue, stroked it with his own, salt tinged with want and lemon that tasted of fuck yes and now.

Jared heard his name hiss through Jensen’s lips, voice raw, desperate as Jared pulled back, trailed his mouth across the hair-roughened skin of Jensen’s cheek. Felt Jensen’s hand slide lower, curve around to cup Jared’s ass, fingers massaged into muscle briefly, before Jensen gripped Jared’s hips, lifted him and pulled him back down, hard on Jensen’s cock. 

Jared groaned, tugged at Jensen’s hair to tilt his head and gain better access, he felt the pulse in Jensen’s throat throb against his tongue as he sucked a bruise into skin. Jared leaned back and drew a harsh breath, lowered his gaze, took in the full expanse of Jensen’s body. Eyes glazed, lids heavy, mouth swollen and wet. Shoulders lifting on each intake of air, Jensen’s shirt creased, revealing a slice of skin where it had rode up over his stomach. Jeans pulled tight, cock hard, leaking dark patches into worn denim.

“Fuck Jensen,” Jared groaned. 

“Finally,” Mike interrupted. 

Jared laughed, shifted, and looked over his shoulder at Mike and Tom. He turned back and caught the look of want on Jensen’s face, the smile dying on his lips as he squared his shoulders and pushed up, ignored the cramp in his legs as he stood. Jared followed Mike’s gaze, glanced downward to find his jeans did nothing to hide his arousal and moved fast before Mike could comment. He heard Jensen choke back the laughter as Jared reached for Tom. Fingers circled the back of Tom’s neck as Jared licked a stripe up his chin, sucked on his bottom lip to taste the last drop of alcohol Mike had missed. 

“You should do something to remove the taste of my tongue Mike, before Tom learns to appreciate the difference.” Jared grinned. He turned and braced one hand on the seat beside Jensen and took a breath. Lowered his gaze to Jensen’s swollen lips, brushed his hand against his erection and squeezed himself through denim, just a touch and leaned in, close to Jensen.

“You coming Jen?” Jared whispered, “Because my cock isn’t getting much harder than this.”


End file.
